There May be Trouble Ahead
by Silver Bee
Summary: Though if you're a Tracy, trouble is pretty much guaranteed. Jeff's got enough to cope with at home, with three young sons and one more on the way. The last thing he needs is a resentful former employee trying to get even.
1. Chapter 1

_Usual disclaimers - none of the Tracys are mine. Something a little lighter this time, hope you like it. Bee_

Chapter One

Jeff Tracy put down the phone, turned off his laptop and pushed his chair away from the desk, taking a moment to stretch out his aching neck and shoulders. Glancing at the clock on the study wall he pulled a face. It was gone seven already. He'd had no idea it was so late, but then time always seemed to fly when he became engrossed in his work. Things were particularly busy at the moment - the business he'd set up a few years ago had expanded way beyond his initial expectations and he'd reached the point where it made economic sense to build his own factory rather than continue to outsource the production of the machinery which looked set to make him a fortune. He'd immediately decided that the new factory should be in his home state of Kansas, and so the family had packed up and returned to his old home town. It was the perfect place to raise the boys.

He shut the study door behind him, careful not only to lock it, but to pocket the key. He'd learned the hard way that giving small boys access to important documents wasn't a good idea - he appreciated a paper aeroplane as much as the next Air Force veteran, but not when it was made out of company reports or spreadsheets.

Crossing the hallway to the lounge, he smiled at the sound of the piano. Inching the door open, he watched as Lucy guided the fingers of their youngest son across the keys. Not that Virgil would be the youngest for much longer, he thought, once again experiencing that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety which had plagued him every day for almost nine months. The new baby was due in just over a month and Jeff had organised his diary to ensure that he'd be on hand for the birth.

Lucy's pregnancy hadn't originally been planned. They'd decided to stop after Virgil, despite their disappointment that the much longed-for daughter had been denied them. Then they'd moved to this new house which had more than enough room for one more - and it wasn't as if they couldn't afford it. Even so, Jeff still wasn't sure how Lucy had persuaded him that four would be a good idea. He was exhausted running around after three, and he spent much of each day away from his boys! But she had been desperate to try for a girl and so they'd gone ahead. They'd both been a little disappointed when the scan showed yet another boy, but that had quickly passed and now they couldn't wait to meet their new son.

His two eldest had taken the news of another brother in their stride, but Virgil hadn't been at all impressed. Usually the most placid of toddlers, he'd become increasingly demanding as the pregnancy had progressed, culminating in several spectacular tantrums as the baby's arrival crept closer, though Jeff had a feeling it wasn't so much Lucy's attention he was worried about losing, but Scott's.

"Daddy!" Virgil caught sight of him, missed the right key and scowled in frustration. Lucy moved his hand back to the proper position before gazing levelly across at her husband.

"Nice of you to join us."

"Sorry. Harry had the latest figures from the Japanese deal. I didn't think it would take as long as it did."

"Well now you're here you can make yourself useful. The trash needs to go out."

"Shouldn't Scott have done that?"

"He's still got that cough. I don't want him going out in the cold."

Virgil came to the end of his piece, giggling when both his parents broke into applause.

"Come on, maestro," Jeff said, lifting him down from the piano stool. "Time for bed."

Virgil shook his head vigorously and insisted he wasn't the least bit sleepy.

"Nice try, son," Jeff smiled. "You've got five minutes. I'm putting the garbage out then I'm taking you up to bed. Say goodnight to your mother."

He made his way out into the hallway, crossing over to the coat rack and pulling on his warmest jacket. But before he could put on his shoes the phone rang. Calling out to Lucy that he'd get it, he spent the next few minutes chatting to his mother, who was possibly even more excited about the new baby than he was.

Finishing the conversation with the announcement that he was off to put out the garbage bags, he replaced the receiver and turned to the front door, only to be faced with the sight of Virgil standing there with a coat on - John's by the look of it, since it was way too big for him, reaching way past his knees, the sleeves hiding his hands. The hat which was slipping down over one eye belonged to Scott, though at least the boots appeared to be his own.

"Help Daddy!" he announced seriously.

Jeff sighed. A five minute job would now take something like fifteen - his three-year-old son's 'help' in cases like this was really more of a hindrance - and it really was freezing outside. He opened his mouth to tell Virgil he didn't need any assistance, then shut it again. The kid looked so darn cute as he gazed up at him expectantly and a refusal might lead to another tantrum, something Jeff really didn't think he could cope with right now. Plus, if Virgil wanted to prove he was a big boy like his brothers by helping with Scott's chores, that was surely to be encouraged.

"Okay, son," he agreed, deciding to leave the coat and hat as they were but adding a pair of gloves before leading his son to the door and pulling it open. He half-hoped the child would be put off by the icy blast of wind that swept into the hallway, but Virgil grabbed his hand and pulled him outside. They walked over to where the pile of garbage bags sat waiting to be taken down to the gate.

Jeff realised Virgil was shuffling along somewhat clumsily and he stopped and looked down at his son.

"Have you got your shoes on the wrong feet again, Virgil?"

Virgil studied his feet before looking up at his father doubtfully.

Wishing once again that he'd left his son in the house, Jeff picked him up and sat him down on a nearby wall.

Virgil shivered as his father pulled his boots off.

"Socks next time, kid," Jeff told him, quickly pushing a boot onto the correct foot. He took a moment to rub Virgil's other foot, blowing on his toes to get them warm before getting the second boot on, laughing as his ticklish son squirmed away, then making a quick grab for him to stop him falling off the wall. "You sure you don't want to go back in?" he asked hopefully.

Virgil shook his head. "Helping."

_Why did I have to buy such a big property? _Jeff thought to himself as he trudged down the drive. He'd given Virgil the smallest of the garbage bags and he just hoped the thing didn't break as his soon-to-be-second youngest dragged it along, abandoning it every so often to run off to jump through puddles. It was dark, with only the light of the half-moon to guide them, the streetlight across the way having failed. Jeff made a note to report it in the morning.

They reached the gate and piled up the bags outside. Relieved the job was done and looking forward to a hot cup of coffee, Jeff was about to lead his son back to the house when a tall figure appeared out of nowhere, a glowing cigarette in his hand. He stumbled slightly as he approached the gate, slurring his words as he spoke.

"'Lo, Mister Tracy." The words might have been friendly enough, but there was a cold edge to them.

Jeff knew the voice well, though he couldn't say it was one he particularly wanted to hear, especially not when he was alone on a dark street with a three-year-old to worry about. He reached down and pulled a protesting Virgil into his arms before replying.

"Trask."

"Tha's me."

"What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Jus' walkin'. Nothin' else to do." He took a bottle of whisky from inside his coat, unscrewing the lid and taking a long swallow. It didn't escape Jeff's notice that the man's hands shook as he did so, nor the fact that it took him three attempts to get the bottle back into his pocket.

Trask had worked as night-watchman at Jeff's factory until a few days ago. He'd started well but had become increasingly unreliable, eventually being found asleep at his post with an empty bottle of whisky in front of him. Jeff had tried to get help for the man but the problems had continued and in the end he'd had no choice but to fire him. Trask had turned nasty - he'd been drunk at the time - and sworn he'd get even one day. Jeff didn't like him suddenly turning up on his doorstep. He liked the way he stared at Virgil even less.

"Cute kid. Wha's ya name, boy?"

Virgil looked at him uncertainly. He didn't like this man, but he'd been brought up always to be polite, so he whispered obediently,

"Virgil."

Trask shot him a pitying look before breaking out into laughter. "Seriously? Ya poor kid. Still, ya daddy always was a bit of a bastard."

"Trask!"

The man ignored Jeff, leaning forward and breathing whisky fumes and cigarette smoke into Virgil's face. The boy flinched and turned his head away, his hands twisting into Jeff's jacket as he began to cough. Jeff tightened his grip on him.

"It's alright, Virgil," he muttered softly.

Mindful of the boy in his arms, Jeff decided that this was one of those situations where it was prudent to beat a strategic retreat. Edging away from Trask, he finally reached the safety of his driveway, letting go of his son with one hand long enough to press the button which slid the gate across.

"Go home," he told Trask, relieved that the man had remained out on the sidewalk. For a moment he'd feared he might follow him. "Get some sleep. And please, call my secretary in the morning and get her to book you back into rehab."

Trask laughed. Jeff turned and hurried back up the drive, doing his best to ignore the man as he shouted more abuse at him. He was more concerned with Virgil, who was clearly unsettled by the encounter. Fortunately, most of the conversation had gone over the boy's head and a piggy-back ride at top speed down the drive which left Jeff breathless, had Virgil laughing again by the time they reached the house.

Jeff swung his son down from his shoulders.

"I don't think we'll mention this to your mother," he said as he opened the door, stepping thankfully back into the warmth of the house.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who responded to the first chapter, especially Whirlgirl who I can't reply to in person. _

_I did say this story was going to be a bit lighter and it is. Though maybe not this chapter..._

Chapter Two

The next day didn't get off to the best of starts. Jeff was already running late thanks to Virgil smearing sticky, jam-covered fingers over his sleeve just as he was about to leave. Then, when he reached the gate and activated the remote control which would roll it back, the thing refused to budge. In the end, Jeff had to get out of the car in order to investigate, cursing as the light drizzle inevitably turned into a downpour. It was going to be one of _those _days...

Then he discovered that the sensor on the gate had been tampered with, something which did nothing to improve his mood. Although he was able to repair it, he had to kneel on the drive to do it, ending up not only soaking wet, but also covered in mud. He had to go back to the house for yet another change of clothes, much to Lucy's amusement - he didn't tell her the damage had been done deliberately, not when he had a fair idea how it had happened. When he finally got going it was with the realisation that he was going to hit the rush hour traffic he'd hoped to avoid and that he'd barely make it to the office in time for his first meeting.

_Trask!_ Jeff thought to himself as he drove. That sensor had been deliberately sabotaged and he couldn't see how anyone else could have been responsible. He just hoped the incident was a one-off, a spur-of-the-moment act of spite against the man who'd fired him, not the start of anything more serious. If Trask did decide to make a habit of this kind of thing, who knew where it would end? The last thing Jeff wanted was for the man to confront his pregnant wife - or any of his boys. Maybe he should have warned Lucy... Then again, maybe he could sort this out before any more problems arose, then she'd never have to know. After all, she had enough on her plate right now. He'd speak to Trask himself, he decided. He had an hour spare later that afternoon, so he'd take a trip down to the man's house and try once again to find a way to help him. Maybe he'd even be sober, which would make things easier.

But Trask either wasn't in when Jeff arrived at his rundown house, or else he was too drunk to answer, so, after knocking in vain for a good couple of minutes, Jeff gave up. It was with some trepidation that he drove home, but to his relief there were no more problems with the gate and Lucy had nothing to report other than the usual challenges of a day spent taking care of her young family.

The next three days passed without incident. Jeff had tried to contact Trask a few more times but without success, so in the end he'd given up, having more than enough business concerns to occupy his time. When Saturday came he was more than ready to relax. He even managed a rare lie-in for half an hour or so - until Scott came charging in and flung himself onto the bed.

"Daddy, wake up! It's stopped raining!"

By the time a winded Jeff was capable of formulating anything more than a grunt in response, Scott had gone again. Dragging himself out of bed, he took a quick look out of the window. Sure enough, the heavy rain that had kept the boys indoors for the past few days had gone and there was even a hint of blue in the sky. Thankful for Lucy's sake more than his own that their three sons could finally get out of the house, he made his way downstairs.

The kitchen was empty of sons, but he could hear them calling to each other out in the yard. Lucy was on the phone and Jeff knew immediately that the caller would be his mother, making sure that everything was okay with the baby. He also knew that she'd call again in the evening just in case anything had changed, something she'd done every day since they'd told her she was getting a fourth grandchild. She'd been the same through all Lucy's previous pregnancies. It drove his wife mad, as much as she adored his mother. Jeff had to keep reminding her that he'd been the fourth baby his mother had carried, and the only one to survive. It was no wonder the woman worried. He'd been almost as bad when Lucy was carrying Scott, his mother's tales of his own traumatic, premature birth coming back to him vividly. But his wife had sailed through all her pregnancies and he'd relaxed a little more each time. Lucy herself had no doubts that this one would be as trouble-free as all the others and he was happy to accept her expert opinion.

He poured himself a coffee then took the phone from his wife, asking his mother if she'd babysit the boys on Valentine's Day so that he could take Lucy out for dinner. Brushing aside her protests that it was too close to Lucy's due date to be gallivanting around town, he eventually got her agreement, promising to call again later before hanging up.

"She worries," he said in response to Lucy's rolling eyes.

"I know. But everything's fine. I keep telling her."

"You know she won't lighten up till the baby's here."

"Well it won't be on Valentine's Day, I can promise you that. He's not due for another month."

"He might be early," Jeff pointed out.

"Possibly, but I don't think so. None of the others were. Scott and John were right on time if you remember. The midwife was most impressed."

"They take after me," Jeff said, more than a little smugly. "It's the Air Force and NASA training; it's in the genes. Now, Virgil..."

Lucy smiled. Virgil had been two weeks late and when he'd finally been persuaded to make an appearance he'd screamed longer and louder than either of his brothers in protest. It had come as a very pleasant surprise when he turned out to be a far better sleeper than either Scott or John had been.

"This one moves around more than Virg did," she told her husband. "He won't hang around. But he's not ready to put in an appearance just yet."

Jeff laughed. "Try telling my mother that. She-"

He broke off at the sound of an indignant squawk from their youngest. Catching Lucy's eye, he got up and headed for the door, only to hear Scott's raised voice. His eldest might have only been eight, but there was real authority in his voice as he ordered,

"Johnny, don't _do _that! Take that thing off his head."

John's reply wasn't audible, but by the sullen muttering it was clear he wasn't happy at having his fun interrupted. Scott ordered him to go away, then his voice grew softer as he consoled an unhappy Virgil. A few moments later the youngest child could be heard laughing again.

Jeff sat back down and shook his head wearily. "I hate to think..."

Lucy took a seat next to him. "If we didn't have Scott to keep the others in line there's no way I'd be risking another one."

"He's good with the younger ones, that's for sure." Jeff sipped his coffee, enjoying the peace and quiet and taking a moment to plan his day. He'd have to check in with work, of course, but there would still be time to play with the boys and spend a little time with Lucy. He'd watch the football, maybe meet a friend for a few beers...

Another scream from outside broke into his reverie and he was on his feet and out of the door without stopping to consider that he was barefoot and only in his pyjama bottoms. This scream had been one of pain and fear and he knew immediately that something had happened to one of his boys.

Aware of Lucy following as fast as she could given that she was eight months pregnant, but with no time to wait for her, he looked around but could see no one. Then Scott came charging out of the trees at the top of the yard.

_"Daddy!"_ There was an edge of panic in his son's voice that Jeff had never heard before.

"What's happened, Scott?"

"Johnny. He fell - and there's glass, and - and... Daddy, he's _bleeding_."

"Show me." Jeff grabbed his son's hand and let Scott lead the way.

The first thing he was aware of as they approached the fence was that Virgil was crying almost hysterically. He hated to hear his son sound so distressed, but he couldn't stop to comfort him. Not when he could hear nothing at all from his middle son. Then he saw him. John sat with his back against the fence, white-faced and shaking as he stared at the hands he held out in front of him. Both palms were bleeding and a piece of glass stuck out of one of them.

"Oh, John." Jeff let go of Scott's hand and moved towards his second-born, only for Scott to let out a panicked cry.

"Daddy, be _careful!"_

Looking down, he saw shards of glass all around and carefully picked his way through them, only now realising he had nothing on his feet. Scott stayed by Virgil, putting an arm around his brother and doing his best to comfort him, though his eyes didn't leave John for a moment.

"Cut me, Daddy," John whispered, holding his hands out to Jeff.

"I can see that, son," Jeff said, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt. He'd dealt effortlessly with bruises, grazes and scratches, even a deeper cut when Scott had found an old penknife, but none of his boys had been hurt this badly before. _Hospital_, he thought, as he picked his five-year-old up. So much for the happy family day he'd hoped for. This one was going to be memorable for all the wrong reasons.

"Johnny?" Lucy had joined them, and she reached out to smooth John's hair back, kissing his forehead before stepping back to allow Jeff past. She put an arm around each of the other boys, hugging them tightly. Her youngest son's tears had stopped now that his parents had arrived and John was being taken care of, but he still looked almost as pale as his brother. Scott was little better.

Where did that glass come from?" she asked. She let go of her sons for a moment and bent awkwardly, picking up one of the larger pieces, one that still had part of a label on it. "It can't be ours."

Jeff's heart sank as he saw it. No, it wasn't his brand - but it was Trask's. He must have finished his bottle after their confrontation then slung it over the fence as he'd walked away. Clearly they'd been unlucky - the ground had been softened by the rain and the bottle shouldn't have broken, but it must have smashed against a tree. At least, Jeff hoped it had just been bad luck - the thought of the man deliberately trying to harm his children filled him with fury.

"Hurts, Daddy." John shifted in his father's arms and Jeff pushed all thoughts of Trask aside as the need to take care of his son took over.

Lucy drove John to the hospital since she was already dressed, leaving Jeff to hurriedly throw something on before following with Scott and Virgil. Both boys were unusually quiet, but it was Scott who seemed most upset, eventually asking his father in a voice which was almost a whisper, whether it was his fault all this had happened, given that he'd yelled at his brother and told him to keep well away from Virgil. By the time Jeff had finished reassuring the boy they'd reached the hospital and so began a lengthy wait for John to be seen and treated. Scott remained subdued, but Virgil soon grew tired of the featureless waiting room, leaving Jeff cursing at his lack of foresight in not bringing anything along to occupy his son. Still, it got Scott moving again and the eight-year-old was soon more like himself as he did his best to entertain his brother. Jeff passed the time wondering what to do about Trask. It could have been an accident, he thought, but then there was the sensor on the gate. That had certainly been deliberate. But nothing had happened since and he'd neither seen nor heard anything of the man. Maybe he should leave things be. Still, he wasn't sure he could let an injury to one of his sons go without making some sort of protest.

Finally John was taken off for stitches. Jeff went with him, leaving Lucy with the other boys. Having to comfort his son whilst he was treated was one of the worst experiences of his life and by the time the doctor was done and John's hands were being bandaged, he'd made up his mind. He was going to see Trask.

It was easy enough to persuade Lucy to take the three boys straight home whilst he headed off to the store to pick up chocolate and ice cream and any number of other treats which would make John feel better. When that was done, he turned his car in the direction of Trask's neighbourhood, just a few minutes away from the hospital.

There was a car in the driveway this time, so Jeff knew immediately that someone was home. Turning off the engine, he sat for a moment, reminding himself to stay calm. After all, Trask probably hadn't meant to harm his son. But he needed to know how irresponsible his behaviour had been. Maybe it would make him realise it was time to get some help. Though if Jeff got the slightest inkling that the man had shattered the bottle deliberately...

Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, Jeff climbed out of the car. When he knocked on the door it took a while for it to open, but eventually it did, just wide enough for a woman to peer out.

"Yeah?" she snapped.

Jeff was taken aback by the hostility in her voice. "Mrs Trask?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm Jeff Tracy."

The woman hesitated a moment before pulling the door open a little wider.

"Have you come to give Harvey his job back?"

"No. I-"

"So what _do_ you want?"

"Is your husband in?"

"No."

Jeff knew when a situation was hopeless and he was tempted to walk away, but the memory of John trying so hard to be brave as the doctor stitched his hand was too strong.

"Mrs Trask, I need to talk to your husband. I think he did something very foolish the other night."

She laughed. "Honey, he does something foolish _every _night. But you know that or you wouldn't have fired him. What's he done this time?"

Jeff explained about the broken bottle and the injuries John had sustained, even though he suspected the woman wouldn't care. He wasn't wrong. When he finished, she looked at him pityingly then pushed back the lank hair that had hung over her face. Jeff winced at the sight of the bruise over one eye.

"You think he's got time to worry about you? Trust me, he's having far more fun here with me."

"Did you report him?" Jeff asked, his dislike of Trask growing stronger by the second.

She laughed again. "What's the point? I can give as good as I get. Anyway, he's only like this when he's drunk - and since he lost his job that's most of the time. Still, I guess you didn't stop to think of the consequences when you fired him."

"He couldn't do his job. I offered to pay for rehab but he wouldn't take me up on it. He didn't give me any choice."

"Yeah, well I've made my choice, too. I'm out of here. I'm heading back to my mother in Topeka just as soon as I get the bus fare together. Unless he puts me in the hospital first..."

She watched him through narrowed, hungry eyes. Jeff looked back at her for a moment then sighed and reached for his wallet. He didn't miss the woman's sly smile as he pulled out a handful of notes, but, he thought, she might just be genuine and she certainly hadn't faked the bruise. If she wanted the cash to get away from Trask, then all well and good. If she was just looking for some easy money and intended to stick it out with him, that was up to her. At least he'd tried. He knew his business colleagues would think he was crazy for handing over two hundred dollars just like that, but he couldn't help the way he was. He'd never been one to turn away from someone who needed a hand and now that he'd built up a small fortune he felt even more obligated to help.

The woman snatched the money out of his hand.

"Tell him I-"

The door slammed in his face and Jeff stopped in mid sentence. Well, that was that, he thought. So much for putting Trask in his place over what had happened to John...

As he turned to leave he realised someone was staring at him through a window, quickly disappearing when they realised he had seen them. The glass was dirty and, thanks to the gathering clouds - it looked as though there was a storm on the way - it was too dark for him to make out the person's face. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had been Trask - his wife might well have been lying about him being out. Jeff forced himself to smile, raising his hands in appeasement just in case whoever it was took it into his head to come outside, then walked back down the drive.

He had to admit to a sense of relief when he got back into his car. Thanking his stars that his life had taken a very different turn to Trask's, he set off back to his family, putting his foot down as he realised John's ice cream was starting to melt.

He just hoped he never saw Trask again - he'd had more than enough of him _and_ his wife. But the face he'd seen in the window bothered him - there had been something inherently hostile in the expression, even though Jeff had only glimpsed it for a second - and he couldn't help wondering if his visit had only made things worse.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Whirlgirl and Kitt, I really appreciate your comments, they mean a lot._

_Part of this chapter is a scene that I wrote just as a bit of fun for Loopstagirl a while ago. It wasn't intended to be published but it seemed to fit in really well with the ideas I had for this story, so here it is. If you think it's familiar, it's inspired by Loopsta's 'War of the Stars' - I gave her a hard time about Virg being left out when she first wrote it, so the original version was just to make her feel guilty for being so mean. (Maybe it was because I was writing 'Perfect Cousin' at the time, so I might have been just a little over-sensitive when it came to Virgil and presents...) Anyway, it's a great story and highly recommended._

Chapter Three

All the way home, Jeff kept wondering what to say to Lucy. He knew his wife well - the slightest hint of someone deliberately being responsible for John's injuries would enrage her. Under normal circumstances she was fiercely protective of her three boys, but when she was pregnant she could be unpredictable in her emotions and her responses. He wouldn't put it past her to go charging round to Trask's herself. He just didn't know what to do. If he'd only been able to speak to the man, he knew she'd have been satisfied, but the fact that Trask had seemingly got away with it wouldn't go down well at all. Maybe it would be better not to tell her. But surely she had the right to know, to be on her guard just in case Trask decided to make more trouble...

He fretted all through the journey, especially when he hit heavy traffic. A football game had just finished and he managed to reach that area of town just as a stream of cars left the parking lot. Now there was no hope for John's ice cream - Scott and Virgil wouldn't care, but John was fussy with his food and he wouldn't be happy - especially not when the ice cream was supposed to be a special treat to make up for his miserable morning.

Then the storm hit and driving conditions became even worse. It took him over an hour to get home and he was still stressing over Trask when he got there. He cheered up a little when he was greeted by an enthusiastic Scott and Virgil, both of whom grabbed the bags, dragging one (Virgil) and carrying the other (Scott) into the kitchen, but he really wanted to see his middle boy. He found John curled up on the living room couch surrounded by toys and books. The boy was fast asleep, so, after gazing fondly at him for a few moments and hoping he'd stay that way until the ice cream had spent an hour or so in the freezer, Jeff made his way into the kitchen.

Only to find Lucy slamming cupboard doors as she pulled out dishes and spoons.

"What kept you?"

Okay, Jeff thought. She was angry. Best not to mention Trask just yet, then. He sent his two sons away to check on their brother before making some excuse about the traffic, relieved when Lucy didn't press the matter.

"How's John?" he asked. "I saw he was asleep."

Lucy paused as she was about to pull off the lid of the ice cream tub. "Okay, I think. He's been awfully quiet since we came back. He says his hands hurt, but the doctor said he can't have anything more for the pain until later this evening. I just hope he sleeps for a few more hours."

She sniffed for a moment before shaking her head and opening the ice cream. Jeff, used to his wife's mood swings when she was pregnant, recognised the signs and was by her side even before she burst into tears. Knowing it was the shock over John - and somewhat surprised that she'd managed to hold it all together this long - he put an arm around her and led her to a chair.

"Come on," he soothed. "He's okay."

"I know, but it shouldn't have happened, Jeff. He's only five; he's going to have scars for the rest of his life."

"The doctor said they'd barely be noticeable," Jeff reminded her.

"_I'll _notice them. He's supposed to be safe in his own back yard. And what if it had been Virgil who'd fallen on that glass? He'd have been even more badly hurt."

"Virgil's fine," Jeff told her. "And so's John. Tomorrow he'll be back to annoying his brothers like he usually does."

"Well, he won't be running around outside until I know for sure there's no more glass. Will you go and clear it up, Jeff? And make sure there's none anywhere else."

Jeff glanced out of the window. The thunder and lightning seemed to have passed, but the rain was still hammering down. "I'll do it in the morning."

Lucy looked at him. "In the morning? What if the boys decide to get up early to go and play outside?"

"They won't get the door open," Jeff pointed out. "Come on, it's pouring down. And look how dark it is out there. I'd need a flashlight to see anything."

"Scott can open the door now," Lucy told him. "You'd know that if you spent more time at home."

Jeff stared at her, unable to help feeling hurt. Lucy had been the one who'd encouraged him to build up the business, even when he'd worried about the impact it would have on their family life.

She must have seen his expression because her own face fell. "I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't mean it like that. You know I'm proud of you - and no one could be a better father. Blame the baby - I'm all over the place right now. I just couldn't bear it if anything else happened to the boys."

"I know." He gave her a hug.

"At least this week's trip will be the last for a while," Lucy said, snuggling up against him. "I'm looking forward to having you around full-time for a few weeks."

Jeff tensed. He'd forgotten all about his upcoming trip to New York. It was only for three days, but with the threat of Trask hanging over his family, he didn't know if he should risk it. But if he didn't, his company could lose out on a major contract, one which would secure the future of the Kansas factory for the next five years or so.

"What's wrong?" Lucy asked.

"Nothing." He kissed the top of her head then got to his feet. "You're right, I should go and clear up that glass. The boys will be fine, but I wouldn't want anything to happen to Mrs Henderson's cats."

Lucy made a half-hearted attempt to stop him, pointing out that he'd been right about the weather, but Jeff could tell that she was relieved he was going to sort things out. Anyway, he needed time to think and since Scott and Virgil chose that exact moment to come charging back in to get their ice cream, he knew he wouldn't get much peace inside for a while.

As he crouched down by the pieces of glass, carefully collecting them all up and placing them in a bag, Jeff wondered what to do. He couldn't risk Lucy getting upset and trying to take on Trask, but he couldn't leave her unprepared for trouble. In the end, he decided there was only one thing he _could_ do, the same thing he'd always done when things got on top of him.

He called his mother.

As he'd expected, the woman was horrified at the news of John's accident. Jeff didn't mention Trask, but as he'd known she would, she insisted on coming straight round, so he knew he'd get the chance to talk to her later.

He'd been a little worried that Lucy might not want her mother-in-law fussing around, but to his relief she took the news cheerfully, commenting that John would be pleased to see his grandmother and that she herself wouldn't mind a little help with the other boys. Scott and Virgil had made the most of this rare opportunity to gorge themselves on sugar and both were charging around manically, inevitably waking John. The injured boy remained quiet, though, and Jeff had a sneaking feeling that he was putting it on just a little, since every whimper of pain got him another treat or a cuddle.

When his mother arrived he let her fuss around her grandsons for a while. Then, when Lucy went to prepare dinner - something she refused to accept any help with - and the boys were playing happily at the far end of the living room, he quietly told her all about the situation with Trask.

"I know the family," Ruth Tracy told him. "His father was just the same. He used to work for your grandfather. I remember Grant telling me how he crashed a tractor through the barn wall after he'd been drinking."

"Do you think he'll cause any more problems?" Jeff asked.

Ruth looked troubled. "I certainly hope not. This business with the glass... he didn't necessarily intend to hurt the boys."

"I shouldn't have gone round there," Jeff sighed. "If he saw me give his wife the money to leave him, he might decide he's got a real case for revenge."

"Or she might have been having you on," his mother said. "Remember, you thought Mr Trask was in the house all along. If we're lucky he'll have taken his share of that money down to the bar and be drinking your health right about now."

"I hope so. But I'm worried, Mom. I don't want to leave Lucy alone this week. I wasn't happy about it anyway, not when the baby's so close, but now I feel even worse about it. I think I should cancel my meeting."

"Will it be bad for the company if you do?"

Jeff looked away and shrugged.

"Jefferson?"

Jeff knew that tone and he smiled weakly. "If I don't get that contract I'll have to lay off half the staff here. At least until something else comes up."

"Well, then," Ruth said firmly, "If people are relying on you, you can't let them down. Go to New York, Jeff. I'll stay here with Lucy."

"You'd do that?" Jeff suddenly felt a whole lot better. His mother might be small but she was tough. If Trask turned up she'd be hard to intimidate and Lucy would have someone to take care of her.

"Of course I would. As if spending more time with my family would be a hardship. But you'll have to convince Lucy. I know she already thinks I'm fussing too much about the baby, but I can't help it, Jeff. I'm just not sure she'll want me around twenty-four hours a day."

"Leave that to me," Jeff said. "Thanks, Mom. What would I do without you?"

He had to wait for the right moment to raise the subject. It helped that Lucy was worn-out by the time the evening came around. The boys, full of chocolate, ice-cream and any other number of sugary concoctions, had run her ragged. Jeff knew that without his mother's help none of them would ever have got to bed, but finally, when all three were fast asleep and the three exhausted adults were enjoying a much-needed coffee, he tentatively made the suggestion and, after much discussion, Lucy finally agreed that Ruth could keep her company whilst her husband was away.

For the next couple of days Jeff couldn't help but be on edge, but his fears were unfounded. He found himself wondering if Trask knew he was heading out to New York and was just biding his time, but, as his mother pointed out, the man's resentment was surely aimed at Jeff himself, not Lucy or the boys. Jeff agreed, though he couldn't quite shake the memory of the man's encounter with Virgil. He almost pulled out of the trip at the last minute, but a timely call from his mother - she knew him far too well, he thought - sent him on his way.

Lucy might have thought that her mother-in-law was a nuisance with her constant phone calls, but she was going to find out that an anxious husband could be a hundred times worse, Jeff decided. He called as often as he could, four or five times a day sometimes, too relieved when Lucy reported that all was well to take offence at her increasingly exasperated tone. The three days were a triumph in terms of business, but Jeff didn't particularly enjoy them and he couldn't wait to get back home. When he finally returned to Kansas it was with gifts for his boys and his mother but, much to his dismay, without the Tiffany necklace he'd bought for his wife. He'd left it in his office drawer. To make matters worse, it wasn't just a 'honey, I missed you' present, it was also her Valentine's gift.

There was no time to buy anything else - Jeff didn't arrive home until late Friday evening and Valentine's Day was on the Saturday. Thankful that he'd at least remembered the card and ordered a delivery of flowers, he decided that, as exhausted as he was after his journey, he'd have to forego the relaxing day he'd been hoping for in favour of a trip into town with Lucy. He'd tell her he wanted her to choose her own piece of jewellery, hoping she wouldn't realise that this hadn't been the original plan. His mother was already booked to babysit that night so that he could take Lucy out for dinner, and Jeff hoped that she wouldn't mind taking the boys for the morning as well.

But she had promised a sick friend she'd visit and, after all her help over the past few days, Lucy refused to ask her to change her plans. And so, Jeff, wearing the new coat which was Lucy's gift to him, found himself strapping his three boys into the back of the car and looking forward - although, if he was honest, that might not have been _quite_ the right phrase - to visiting not only all the town's jewellers, but its toy store, too.

It was just as dreadful as he'd expected. Lucy was in one of her indecisive moods and couldn't make up her mind between two pairs of earrings. Then, when she'd finally decided on the one she liked best and he was just about to pay, she suddenly announced that actually she'd prefer the bracelet she'd seen in the first store they'd been to. Scott and John had quickly grown restless and there turned out to be a limit as to how long Virgil could be distracted by colours and sparkles. By the time Lucy had her present the boys were desperate to let off steam. Jeff really wanted a coffee, but instead they headed for the toy store.

An hour later he was ready to forego the coffee in favour of a stiff drink. First of all they'd lost Virgil - Jeff had taken Scott to look at the model airplanes whilst Lucy had gone with John to look at the books. Each of them had assumed that the other had taken the youngest, but when they met up again some fifteen minutes later it was to realise with horror that the three-year-old had been missing all that time. Frantically retracing his steps, Jeff had discovered the boy still standing just inside the entrance staring with wide-eyed fascination at the conjuror who was entertaining the shoppers. He'd clearly been there all the time, oblivious to the fact that the rest of his family had left him behind, and he jumped a mile when his father swept him up into his arms, then put up an angry protest when he was carried back to his mother, kicking and screaming all the way.

It took a long time to pacify Virgil - and for Jeff and Lucy to recover from their fright - then they had to deal with an argument between the two oldest boys over their choice of DVDs. By the time an exasperated Jeff had given up and bought both, Lucy was complaining that her back was aching and her feet hurting, so it was with the utmost relief that Jeff guided his family back to the car, keeping a tight hold of Virgil's hand all the way. It was only lunchtime, but he was exhausted.

As soon as they got home, Scott and John advanced on their father - or, more precisely, the bag in his hands. Sighing in anticipation of the inevitable argument over which they should watch first, Jeff took out the DVDs and handed one to each of his boys. With yells of delight they made a run for the living room. Jeff turned to hang up his coat but was suddenly distracted by something pulling at his leg. Looking down he saw Virgil, eyes wide with expectation, holding his hands out for his present.

"Ah..." Jeff's eyes darted around in the hope that Lucy would appear, but she'd gone straight to the kitchen to make the coffee they were both so desperate for. "Virgil, I haven't got anything for you. You're a bit young for those films."

"Daddy... " Virgil was giggling, clearly believing his father was just playing with him. Jeff winced. He knelt down and held out his arms to his son. "Hug?" he asked hopefully, praying that a little tickling and wrestling would distract his son from the fact that out of the whole family, he was the only one not to have had some kind of treat that day.

But Virgil was a Tracy, and even at three, he was too sharp to be tricked so easily. Ignoring his father's outstretched arms, he tugged the empty bag out of Jeff's hands before opening it and turning it upside down. His little face fell and he gazed up at his father with a look of utter devastation. Jeff felt terrible, especially when the first tear trickled down his son's cheek.

"Oh, Virgil, don't cry." Jeff went to pick his son up, then almost dropped him as Virgil struggled to get away, whacking him on the nose with surprising force for a three-year-old.

"Daddy forgot Virgie?" The tears were falling properly now and Jeff didn't know what to say. He didn't like to lie to his boys, but he was hardly going to admit that yes, he had forgotten his son. Twice, come to think of it, what with losing him in the store, too.

"What's going on? Virgil, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Jeff had never been so glad to see Lucy.

"We didn't get him anything," he hissed as his wife tried to comfort the sobbing child.

Lucy looked at him in horror. "Why didn't you get him something?"

"_Me?_ Why didn't you?"

"I'm pregnant, Jeff, you know I've got the memory span of a goldfish. I thought you were going to get him those crayons."

"I was going to go back for them. I guess with all the fuss with John and Scott I forgot."

"Well, you're going to have to do something. You can't treat Virgil any different from his older brothers; he'll think you don't love him as much as them. He's going to struggle enough when the new baby comes as it is."

Virgil was still crying. Lucy put a finger under his chin to force him to look up at her.

"Come on, Virgie, don't cry. Daddy didn't forget about you."

"Did!"

"No he didn't. He just got Scotty and Johnny DVDs to watch while he takes you to the play centre."

Jeff groaned as Virgil's crying immediately stopped.

"Aw, Luce, you know how much I hate that place. It's bad enough first thing in the morning; it's my idea of hell on Earth on a Saturday afternoon. It'll be full of screaming kids and I've already got a headache."

"Jeff," Lucy said sternly, nodding towards Virgil who was still sniffling as he looked at his father hesitantly, clearly not certain whether he could trust him again.

Jeff gave in. He really did feel terrible about leaving Virgil out, but he'd more than pay for it now.

"Come on, then, kid," he said, holding out his hand. Virgil ran to him, everything forgiven, and threw his arms around his legs. Jeff looked down at him and couldn't help smiling, deciding that an hour or so of torture was worth it if it made his son happy.

Lucy gave him a hug. "Have fun, honey. I'll have a drink waiting for you when you get back."

"You'll be wishing you could have one yourself when the others find out I've taken Virgil and not them," Jeff told her as he let Virgil pull him out of the door, unable to stop himself from laughing at the look which came over his wife's face.

Sure enough, the play centre was as bad as Jeff had anticipated. Virgil had kicked his shoes off and charged straight into the ball pit with a squeal of excitement so, once he'd made certain the boy was okay, Jeff took himself over to the canteen, queuing for ten minutes for a cup of bad coffee, then having to stand at the side of the tables because the place was so busy. He couldn't help checking his watch every few minutes, wondering why time seemed to slow down whenever he was in a place like this. It wasn't that he didn't get a kick out of seeing Virgil dashing about the place with a massive grin on his face, but the noise level, as he'd predicted, was excruciating, the yells and screams of excited children virtually drowning out the music - a medley of classic children's favourites which repeated themselves ad nauseum. Not that any of the kids seemed to mind. With the exception of one little girl who'd fallen over and was sobbing in her mother's arms, everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives.

Looking around for Virgil again, he saw him chasing a small boy who he recognised as one of his classmates. Then, as a table near him became free, he dashed across and flung himself into a seat, grateful for a little relief from the misery.

He'd set his phone to vibrate, otherwise he'd have had no idea someone was trying to call him. Frowning when he saw it was the foreman of his factory, he wondered what the problem was. He'd instructed his office to pass all but the most serious problems onto one of his managers that weekend. _This had better be important, _he thought, vacating his seat with the knowledge that, with so many people hovering around just waiting for an empty table, he wasn't going to get it back, then heading back to the lobby so that he could have some chance of hearing what the man on the other end of the line was saying.

He'd known it wasn't going to be good news, and he was right. There had been a fire at the factory - possibly started deliberately - and his presence was needed right away.

_Trask!_ Jeff had no doubt that this was his ex-security guard's doing. Whether he'd intentionally waited a while to get his revenge, wanting Jeff to be lulled into a false sense of security, or whether he'd only now had the opportunity, Jeff didn't know. Either way, he'd finally made his move.

Announcing that he was on his way, Jeff ended the call then headed back into the play centre. Virgil still had another twenty minutes of his session to run and he was just grateful that the boy couldn't yet tell the time. Calling him over and laughing about how quickly time went when you were having fun, he ignored his son's pleas to stay longer, instead steering him over to a vending machine and letting him choose whatever he wanted, just to stop him sulking and get him out of the place. He was just grateful there wasn't a repeat of the morning's tantrum.

Once in the car, Jeff set off for home. But when he came to a turning he hesitated. By the time he'd taken Virgil home and headed back to his factory, almost an hour would have passed. But if he went straight there he could make it in twenty minutes. As much as he wanted to keep his son away from anything dangerous, he was desperate to know what had happened. In some ways the business was like another child, albeit one that would still need careful nurturing well after his boys had grown up and moved away. Virgil would be fine, he thought. All small boys loved fire engines and he could easily find someone to keep an eye on him if he was allowed into the factory to inspect the damage.

It was probably just as well he had his son with him, he thought, because otherwise he might just be tempted to pay a visit to Trask, and he knew that if he set eyes on the man any time soon, there was going to be real trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

_Really sorry this is late - real life took over for a while. Back on track now, though._

_If you spot what you think is a mistake in this chapter, it's not! It'll all make sense in the end. (You'll see what I mean!)_

Chapter Four

Jeff had braced himself for the sight of flames soaring skyward and the sound of blaring alarms and sirens, convinced that he was going to arrive just in time to watch his factory crumble into ash, everything he'd worked so hard for destroyed at the hands of a man he'd done his best to help. Instead, he found the building still standing and everything quiet - eerily so, in fact, since none of the usual sounds of machinery could be heard. Only the sight of his workers standing around in small groups, shivering in the cold, plus two fire trucks, a police car and an ambulance parked at the corner of the building, gave away the fact that something out of the ordinary had taken place.

The fear that had gripped him since he'd received the call faded a little, but he was still desperate to find out what had happened. First, though, he'd have to find someone to keep an eye on Virgil. Any hope Jeff had had that the drive would lull his son into sleep so he could focus on the crisis at his factory the moment he arrived, had quickly been dashed. As soon as the boy saw the first of the fire trucks he was bouncing about in his seat, squealing in excitement, and, despite everything, Jeff couldn't help smiling. His son might look like his mother, and he certainly seemed to have inherited her artistic and musical talents, but show him a fire truck or an aeroplane or any other example of mechanical mastery - the bigger the better - and he was all Jeff's.

Spotting his foreman engaged in an animated conversation with a fireman and a teenage boy he vaguely recognised as one of his workers, he pulled to a halt as close to them as he could get and flung the door open, struck immediately by the tang of smoke in the air.

Diving into the back, he wrenched open the clasps on Virgil's safety harness as quickly as he could - a job not made any easier by the way his son was squirming around, desperate to get out.

"Calm down, Virgil!" he muttered, but as he'd known it would, his son's excitement only increased the moment he was out of the car.

"Jeff!" His foreman had disengaged himself from the others and come running over.

"Hey, Mac. What's going on? How bad is it?"

Whatever Mac had been going to say in response was lost as Virgil once more began to babble in excitement.

"Virgil, be quiet. I'll take you over later, I promise," Jeff told him. "Daddy just needs to talk to some people first."

Virgil, however, was having none of it, his howl of disappointment at being carried in the opposite direction to the fire truck nearly shattering Jeff's ear drums. Mac, who knew all Jeff's boys well and usually liked nothing better than to make a fuss of them, just frowned in frustration, an expression mirrored by his employer.

"Need a hand, Jeff?"

Jeff turned in relief at the sound of a voice he knew well. It still struck him as strange that people he'd known as a boy and who, in many cases, he'd looked up to during his formative years, now worked for him. Nora had been his first crush. Twenty years on, she might have cut the waist-length blonde hair that had fascinated him every time he'd sat behind her in class, not to mention having put on a few pounds, but she was still a very attractive woman and Lucy hated her. Jeff had made the mistake of telling his wife about his teenage yearnings when he'd introduced her to Nora at a staff party, and she had viewed the woman with suspicion ever since. Jeff didn't understand it. Nora was hardly a threat - after all, she'd been dating Mac for over a year. And even if she had been single it wouldn't have made any difference. He'd never so much as looked at another woman with anything other than complete disinterest since he'd met Lucy and he knew he never would. Why his wife couldn't believe him when he told her that there'd never be anyone else for him, he didn't know. He meant it, too - she'd made him happier than he'd ever expected to be, and given him three beautiful sons. Soon to be four, when little Alan arrived...

"Do you mind?" Jeff was handing Virgil over even as he asked the question. Lucy wouldn't like it, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

"Of course not. Anyway, it gives me an excuse to get a little closer to some men in uniform and that's never a bad thing." She winked at Jeff and laughed at Mac as she put Virgil down and let him drag her over to the fire truck.

Smiling as Nora made the inevitable observation to the little boy that he looked exactly like his mother, Jeff turned back to Mac who was watching her with the same expression Jeff knew had been on his own face all through his first year of high school. But there were more important matters to attend to.

"Mac!" he said sharply, and the man blinked as he came back to reality.

"It's okay, Jeff. The top end of the building is damaged, but it could have been a whole lot worse."

"Who's the ambulance for?"

"One of the packers. There was a lot of smoke and it triggered his asthma. It's just a precaution - he'll be fine."

Mac had just started to outline what had happened when Jeff spotted a policewoman walking over to her car. "Come on," he said, steering Mac over towards her. "You can fill me in on the details later. I want to make sure they pick up Trask."

"Trask? What's he done?"

"What do you think? You said the fire was started deliberately."

"Ah." Mac looked sheepish. "We found out how it happened. It wasn't Trask, Jeff. Why would you think it was? You still having trouble with him?"

Jeff stared at him, completely thrown. "Mac, will you _please_ just tell me what happened?"

As Mac led him back towards the people he'd been talking to when Jeff arrived, he explained how one of the apprentices had decided to take the opportunity for a quick cigarette when he'd been sent over to the storage units to pick something up. Knowing that he'd be in trouble - smoking anywhere on the premises was strictly forbidden - he'd panicked when he'd heard someone coming and tossed his cigarette away under a car. He wasn't to know that the car happened to have a tiny leak in the gas tank. The cigarette had been all that was needed to ignite the small puddle of fuel that had collected and a moment later the whole car had gone up. Since it was parked up against the factory wall at the time, it had taken part of the wall and two other cars with it. Things could have quickly got out of hand, but, as Mac pointed out, Jeff's insistence on installing the latest fire-fighting equipment had paid off, and the sprinkler system had quickly done its job, preventing the fire from spreading through the factory.

"I thought a bomb had gone off," Mac admitted. "The guy's only just admitted what happened. Idiot. You should fire him, Jeff. We can't restart production until the repairs are finished, which means we won't meet the delivery date for this order. If we lose the Westborough contact we'll be in trouble."

Jeff considered this for a moment. He knew he should be angry with the boy whose actions had caused all this trouble, but his overwhelming feeling right now was one of relief that it had just been a stupid accident. The thought of it all happening deliberately had made him feel sick, especially since he would always blame himself for not taking more direct action against Trask.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Mac asked, glaring at the apprentice who shrank back nervously. Jeff couldn't help feeling sorry for the boy - he guessed he'd already been on the receiving end of Mac's legendary temper.

"Later," Jeff told him. "First I want to talk to the fire department, then we'd better start thinking about how we're going to fix all this."

An hour later, Jeff was about to enter the factory unit to survey the damage inside for himself. The structural damage to the building itself was the main issue, but he need to see what equipment had been affected, not to mention trying to work out what materials and finished components were salvageable. A fireman handed him a hard hat, but before he could put it on, his phone rang.

It was Lucy, wondering why he was spending so long at the play centre. When Jeff informed her that he was at work she was none too happy and it was a moment before he could get a word in to tell her about the fire. Instantly her annoyance gave way to concern and she listened to Jeff's account of the situation with almost as much relief as Jeff himself had felt when he'd first been reassured that things weren't as bad as he'd anticipated.

"You're looking after Virgil, aren't you?" she asked suddenly.

"Sure," Jeff told her, looking round frantically for his son then spotting him sitting in the cab of one of the fire trucks, hands on the steering wheel, laughing away as he pretended to drive it. Nora was leaning against the side of the truck deep in conversation with a fireman, but Jeff decided to leave that part of the story out as he described their son's delight to Lucy.

"Be careful with him," Lucy told him. "How long will it take you to sort this out, Jeff? Do you want me to cancel the dinner reservation? I could come up and get Virgil if you like."

"No, honey," Jeff told her. "Give me an hour or so to deal with things out here then I'll come back. I'll need to make a few calls before we go, but I won't let you down. I promised you one last night out before the baby, remember?"

"Well, if you're sure. But don't get carried away and forget the time. I know you."

Promising he'd be back as soon as he could, Jeff hung up. That had gone better than he'd expected, he thought. If the fire had been deliberate or the damage worse, then she'd have been a lot more annoyed with him for taking Virgil along, but under the circumstances she'd been as supportive as she always was, knowing how important it was to the whole family that the business thrived.

When he came out of the factory some twenty minutes later, relieved that things weren't quite as bad as he'd anticipated, he pulled off his hard hat and took a moment to breathe in some fresh air.

_"Daddy!" _

The force of his son flinging himself at him nearly knocked him over. He couldn't make out much of what Virgil was saying, since the three-year-old was speaking so quickly and excitedly that the words made no sense, but he got the gist of it.

"Did you like the fire truck?" he asked, swinging his boy into his arms.

Virgil nodded and burst into another, slightly less frenetic, account of the things he'd seen.

"Thanks, Nora," Jeff said, as the woman approached.

"No problem. It was fun. How's it going here?" Nora asked.

"Mac's getting some of the men to board the place up, then it's just a case of trying to sort out what we do until the repairs are completed. If you could give me a hand calling the people who were due to come in for this evening's shift, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure."

"Come on, Virgil." Hugging his son, who was gazing wistfully at the last of the fire trucks as it turned out on to the road, Jeff made his way into the administration block and the warmth of his office.

He'd only intended to stay for an hour or so - as he'd told Lucy, a lot of the phone calls could be made from his study at home - but of course, as always happened when he got caught up in his work, time flew faster than he realised. He hadn't expected to have so much peace, for a start, but Virgil had been quite happy to lie on the floor of his office with a pencil and paper, singing happily to himself as he drew what Jeff assumed was a fire truck. It wasn't a bad effort for a three-year-old, he thought - it certainly beat anything his eldest could produce, and Scott was eight. But the most important thing was that it kept the boy quiet, and Jeff could get on with his work. Transferring production of a massive order at a minute's notice wasn't an easy task, but at least it looked as if he might have a chance of fulfilling the order after all.

Finally, knowing that he'd done all he could and that he'd just have to wait for the call from another manufacturer confirming that they could help him out, he got up and went to get himself a coffee, pausing for a moment to admire Virgil's latest drawing. Mac and Nora were in the small kitchen and Mac handed Jeff the cup of coffee he'd just poured, turning to prepare another for himself.

"Thanks," Jeff said. He glanced at his watch. "Hell, Lucy's going to kill me. I didn't realise it was so late. Remind me to pay you two overtime."

"Don't worry about it," Mac told him. "Although, are you likely to need us much longer?"

"Why?" Jeff asked, before the realisation hit him. "Oh Mac, I'm sorry, I forgot. Valentine's Day... You two must have plans."

Mac shrugged. "We were going to go up to that hotel you recommended. You know, the one where you took Lucy for your anniversary. We can cancel, but..."

"No, no." Jeff held up his hands. "You should have said something earlier. I wouldn't want to spoil your evening. You get going. The two of you have done more than enough."

Nora glanced over at Mac, then back at Jeff. "We can't leave you here alone."

"I'm nearly done," Jeff told her. "As soon as I've spoken to Howard I'm heading home."

"Well, if you're sure..." Nora and Mac looked dreamily at each other and Jeff laughed.

"Get out of here, the pair of you. And I don't want you thinking about work until Monday!"

"I think I can promise that!" Mac grinned at Jeff before taking Nora's hand and pulling her out of the room.

Jeff grinned back, watching the pair as they disappeared round the corner. "Right," he said to himself. "Five more minutes, then I'm out of here."

Of course, it didn't quite work out that way...

It wasn't his fault that the call didn't come as soon as he'd hoped. He occupied himself by checking his emails, but that led to another couple of calls and by the time Jacob Howard himself had rung to inform him that his factory could do the job but that the short notice would mean that Tracy Industries would have to pay a premium, Jeff was fully caught up in the negotiations for another deal with a company in Germany. By the time he'd given in and agreed to Howard's demands, he was so desperate to get something positive out of his day, that, with a silent apology to Lucy, he picked up the phone again.

After that, he really did intend to head off home, but towards the end of his phone call, Virgil had come quietly over to him, leaning into his side with half-closed eyes. Jeff ruffled his hair affectionately with his free hand, knowing as soon as his son's thumb went into his mouth that the boy was more than ready for a nap.

He should have shut the place up and taken Virgil home there and then, but he knew that although his son would sleep all the way home, as soon as he got into the house he'd be woken by his brothers and, by the time he'd finished telling them all about the fire truck he'd be wide-awake - and the others would be sulking because they hadn't had the same experience. Virgil would refuse to go back to sleep again, so by the time his mother arrived to baby-sit she'd be faced with one over-tired, fractious three-year-old and two stroppy older boys. He couldn't do that to her, not after she'd been so good to him over the past week or so.

So he decided to let Virgil sleep a little longer. Lifting him up, he carried him out to his secretary's office where a large couch ran along one wall. Placing his son down, he covered him with his jacket, watching for a moment as the boy snuggled up, asleep within moments.

Jeff debated whether to call Lucy, then decided that whilst she might well be angry at his failure to return when he'd said he would, she wouldn't be worried. She'd know that he'd been caught up with his work - it had happened often enough, after all. She wouldn't be shy in expressing her annoyance, not to mention her fear that he wouldn't make it back in time for them to go out for their meal, but the longer she kept him talking, the longer he'd end up staying at the office. He'd have to make another call when he got home too, which wouldn't go down well. Maybe he was better off staying put and keeping his head down until he was finished. There was no point in enduring two lectures. No, he thought, he wouldn't call or head home just yet. He'd put in another half an hour then go back. He'd take whatever Lucy threw at him, but it would be fine. He'd charm his way back into his wife's good books over dinner. It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to do it, and Jeff was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last.

Of course, half an hour later, he still hadn't quite finished. Shivering as he realised that the office was getting decidedly chilly - the heating had long since switched itself off - he got up for one last coffee. Fifteen more minutes. That really would be it. If he didn't leave then, he wouldn't be back in time to get ready for dinner and he wasn't going to risk that. He checked on Virgil, still fast asleep, warm and cosy under his jacket, then headed off to the kitchen.

He had just filled his cup when he heard a noise from outside. It sounded as though someone was trying the door. It would be the new night-watchman, Jeff thought - and he couldn't help but be grateful that he hadn't embarrassed himself by shooting his mouth off to the police about Trask, not when the man was clearly completely innocent. He glanced out of the window, only to see a shadowy figure moving away from the office block and across to the factory. Debating whether or not to go down to have a quick word with him, Jeff hesitated, thinking of Virgil back in the office. He didn't want his son waking up alone in a strange place. Then again, it took a lot to wake Virgil and he'd had an eventful day. It would only take a minute after all...

Jeff slipped downstairs and out of the door, but the guard had disappeared. He must be making his usual circuit of the premises, Jeff thought, hurrying along to the end of the building, intending to call the man back.

It wasn't a surprise when he heard footsteps approaching him. What _was_ a shock, was the fact that they came from behind him.

Jeff didn't have time to turn round before someone grabbed him. Two people, judging from the way one person held his arms down whilst another pulled some kind of sack over his head. He did his best to fight back, but, outnumbered and unable to see his attackers, he was at a complete disadvantage. A sharp punch to the stomach left him on the floor and gasping for breath. He was pulled back to his feet and manhandled along, his arms held firmly behind his back.

"What's he doing here?"

"Don't know. Stick him with the other one."

Jeff would have known the second voice anywhere.

Trask.


	5. Chapter 5

_This was supposed to be the last chapter but it would have been a bit long, so one more after this. It will all make sense in the end..._

_Thanks to everyone for the response to the last chapter. A special thank you to Whirlgirl who I can't reply to personally._

Chapter Five

Unable to believe what was happening, Jeff did his best to fight against his captors as they hurried him along. But he was still winded from the blow to the stomach, not to mention disoriented by the sack over his head, and his efforts were in vain. The men who held him were strong, and he could do nothing to stop them from doing whatever they wanted with him.

Actually, Jeff wouldn't have minded what they did to him as long as they left Virgil alone. The thought of his son alone and defenceless terrified him, but although his fears gave him renewed strength to resist the men, it still wasn't enough. Moments later they stopped and Jeff heard a door creak open. Knowing that the only doors which sounded like that were those of the outside storage units - the ones where they kept packaging materials and trash - he made one last desperate attempt to stop his abductors from shoving him in. The effort just earned him another punch in the stomach, and he fell to the ground again. Desperately trying to draw breath, he could do nothing to stop himself from being dragged to his feet and thrown inside.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Jeff stumbled to his feet, only to trip over something lying directly in his path. Crashing to the ground, he lay stunned for a few seconds, before finally realising that whatever he'd fallen over was moving - and making strange moaning sounds. It was pitch-black inside the room and even when he pulled the sack off his head, Jeff couldn't see a thing. It took him a moment to get over the sudden fear that hit him and to realise that the thing was in fact a person.

Jeff edged away from the body and got shakily to his feet, holding his hands out in front of him and shuffling his feet carefully forward in case he hit any more obstacles, until he finally reached the wall. Carefully feeling his way around, he made his way to where he thought the door was, letting out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding as his fingers brushed against the light switch.

A second later his eyes were watering in the bright glow of the lights, his vision finally clearing enough for him to see that, as he'd suspected, the body he'd fallen over was that of his security guard. The man blinked back at him, looking decidedly embarrassed at the position he found himself in, bound and gagged on the floor of one of the buildings he was supposed to be guarding. Then he began to struggle against his bonds once more.

"Hold still," Jeff ordered, crossing over to the man and doing his best to work on the knots. To his relief they gave reasonably easily.

"Mr Tracy, I'm so sorry," the man gasped once Jeff had pulled the gag from his mouth. "I was hit from behind. The next thing I knew I was in here. I don't know who it was - or how they got in. I could have sworn the place was secure. The alarms didn't go off and the monitors didn't show anything unusual."

"You okay?" Jeff asked, freeing the guard's feet and leaning forward to look at him closely. He didn't like the idea of him being knocked out. It also gave him the chance to read the man's name tag - Doug Barrett, Trask's replacement. In the past he'd have known each and every one of his employees, but now that several hundred people worked for him all over the country, he'd simply lost track. Mac had interviewed the man, anyway - Jeff only sat in on interviews for the more important posts these days.

"I'm okay." Doug smiled a little ruefully. "Used to be a boxer. I can take a hit."

Jeff remembered Mac mentioning the man now. Not the brightest, Mac had told him - maybe a few too many blows to the head - but a good man who knew how to handle himself. The fact that he'd been overpowered so easily made him feel better about his own capture - and even more terrified for the fate of his son.

"We have to get out of here," he said, jumping to his feet and moving back to the door. Doug joined him and the two did their best to force it open before finally admitting defeat.

"Damn it!" Jeff kicked out at the door in frustration. His captors had, as he'd feared, bolted it shut. They'd probably put the padlock on as well. There was no way the pair of them would ever get it open. There was nothing in there which they could use to get themselves free, either. He shivered, realising how cold it was and wishing he had his jacket - all the more so since his phone was in the pocket.

"You got a phone on you?" he asked.

Doug checked his own pockets. "No. Guess they took it when they got my radio." He showed Jeff the empty clip on his belt. "They took my keys, too." His shoulders slumped. "I guess I'll be looking for another job tomorrow, huh?"

Jeff couldn't think about that now. He'd worry about it on Monday - along with the fate of the boy who'd set fire to his factory. How had the day gone so wrong? he wondered. Everything had been going so well and now... The frightening thing was that if this was as bad as it got he'd count himself lucky, but those men could be doing anything right now - to his factory and to his son. What if they started another fire and Virgil was trapped? Worse, still, what if they took Virgil? They must know Jeff would give every dollar he had to save him. He couldn't help remembering the way Trask had looked at his boy, and how nervous Virgil had been around him. He wouldn't put it past the man to hurt him - after all, he hadn't worried about hitting his wife. It would be the perfect revenge - and Jeff swore that he'd have his own revenge if the worst should happen.

"Are you okay, Sir?" Doug asked.

Jeff looked at him, suddenly realising that his hands were clenched into fists.

"My son's in the office," he said. "He's only three. He was asleep. Anything could be happening to him right now..."

"Maybe they won't go up to the office," Doug said slowly. "I came round while they were carrying me in here and I'm sure one of them said something about getting into the factory to see what they could take."

"I wish I could believe that," Jeff told him. "That might be part of it, but I don't think I'm going to get off that easily. I know who these men are, you see. Well, one of them at least."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Your predecessor, Harvey Trask."

"I heard you fired him. You think he wants to get back at you?"

"He's already hurt one of my sons." Jeff told Doug about John's injuries.

"My daughter's five," Doug told him. "Erin. My wife was glad we had a girl. She was scared a son would follow me into the ring. Not sure I'd have encouraged that though, not if he'd inherited my glass jaw. How many sons have you got?"

"Three. And another one on the way." Jeff had slumped down to the floor, but he suddenly jumped up again. "Lucy! Once he gets Virgil he might go after Lucy. My keys are in my jacket... He could get into the house - she'd never know until it was too late."

"Mr Tracy, calm down!" Doug grabbed Jeff as he began to punch the door, steering him away and holding his arms by his side until he stopped struggling. "That's not helping. Listen, your wife must be worried that you're not home, right? When he left, Mr Mackenzie told me you'd only be staying another half an hour but you've been way longer than that. That's why I was late making my rounds - I wanted to be on the gate when you left in case you had any instructions for me. Then, when you didn't come out I thought I'd come and see if everything was okay. I heard you're kind of a workaholic so I wasn't too worried. Then I ran into those guys...

"But your wife will try to get in touch with you, right? When she can't reach you, she'll call the main line which will go through to my office. When I don't answer she'll know something's wrong. She'll contact the police or Mr Mackenzie or someone. They'll find us."

Jeff stared at him. He had a point. Lucy was bound to call when he failed to turn up in time for their dinner reservation. He'd promised he'd be back and he didn't make promises lightly. Nor did he break them. She'd have to realise something was seriously wrong. If only she could raise the alarm before Trask got to her. But what if she decided to leave the boys with his mother and come down to look for him herself? He hadn't even warned her about the man, she'd have no idea what she'd be walking into...

He managed a garbled account of his fears, hoping Doug would tell him he was being over-dramatic, but when the man wouldn't meet his eyes as he insisted everything would work out, Jeff felt panic rising in him once more.

"I've got to get out of here!" he muttered, throwing himself at the door again. Doug just stood by awkwardly this time and after a few minutes Jeff gave up, his hands sore from banging on the door, his voice hoarse from yelling.

Then all they could do was sit and wait. At one point they heard the roar of the engine of a powerful car. Jeff had been driving his Mercedes, and he knew the sound of its engine well. The knowledge that Trask must have been up to the office nearly broke him - the keys were in his jacket, the one he'd carefully covered his sleeping son with. Finding the jacket had meant finding Virgil, and even if Trask hadn't taken him away or hurt him in some way, the boy would have been terrified, not just by Trask's presence but because his father wasn't there.

"Mr Tracy?" Doug put a tentative hand on Jeff's shoulder, but Jeff shook him off. There was nothing the man could say or do to help - and he didn't deserve comfort, anyway. This was all his fault. He should have taken Virgil home hours ago, then he'd be safe - and so would Lucy and the boys. He'd be sitting in a restaurant right now enjoying a wonderful meal with his beautiful wife, not sitting shivering on the hard concrete of a storeroom floor, wondering if he'd ever see his family alive again. Why hadn't Trask taken his anger out on him? Jeff wondered, before realising he knew the answer: the grief and guilt he'd feel over whatever happened to his wife and his sons - his mother too, since she'd have arrived at the house long ago ready for a pleasant evening's babysitting - would destroy him. He'd bear those scars forever, long past the time any physical injuries would have healed.

The hours that followed were the worst of Jeff's life. Never the most imaginative of men under normal circumstances, he found himself trapped in a cycle of fear, panic and misery, picturing more and more horrific scenarios, some of which left him wondering if it might be better for his family if they died quickly, then hating himself for thinking such a thing. Doug could do nothing to help and in the end he'd just sat beside his boss, staring silently into space. Only once did he speak, a murmured observation that if Lucy had alerted anyone to the fact that her husband hadn't returned from the factory, someone would have been there by now. He didn't continue, but Jeff knew what he was thinking: the fact that the place wasn't being torn apart as people tried to find them suggested that no one even knew there was a problem, and the only way that could happen was if something had happened to his wife...

It was nearly midnight. Jeff had his head buried in his hands, oblivious to anything other than his own dismal thoughts. Doug had got to his feet and was pacing about the room in an effort to warm himself up. When a sudden loud rapping came at the door and a man's voice called Jeff's name, they both jumped in shock, Jeff's head snapping up and banging against the wall. He clambered stiffly to his feet, but before he could reach the door, Doug beat him to it, yelling out to whoever was there that they were trapped inside.

"Hang on a minute! We're getting you out."

Doug and Jeff looked at each other, hardly able to believe that they were about to be rescued. Jeff felt a curious mix of elation and terror, dreading the moment he'd finally find out what had happened to his family. He'd thought nothing could be worse than not knowing, now he wondered if he'd been wrong.

The door swung open and a pair of policemen stood looking at them.

"I'm Officer Shawcross. What happened, Mr Tracy?" one of them asked.

Jeff pushed past him, stumbling outside and looking around frantically, hoping he'd see Lucy or his mother or Virgil, but there was no one else around. He vaguely registered Doug bringing the police up to speed on what had happened, but he had only one thing on his mind.

"Lucy?"

"Lucy?" Shawcross came to stand next to him. "That's your wife, right?"

"Yes."

"She's in the hospital, but-"

Jeff turned to stare at him, his whole body starting to shake as he tried to formulate a sentence.

"The hospital? What happened to her? What did he do? And what about the others? My boys? Virgil?"

"Whoah! Slow down." The policeman put out a hand to steady him. "No one's done anything to your wife. She's having the baby. Your mother's with her, your boys are back at your house with a neighbour. It's you we've been worrying about. Mrs Tracy reported your disappearance a few hours ago - we've been searching for you ever since. We came up here earlier but the place was deserted and the guard at the next unit said he'd seen you drive away. We had no leads until your car was reported burning up by the lake half an hour ago. No sign of you, so we came back to start the search again."

Jeff thought his legs would give way as he tried to process this. Lucy hadn't been hurt? His mother was okay? So were the boys? But his relief was short-lived as he remembered the one boy who hadn't been safely at home.

"Virgil!" Then he was racing back to the office block, the policeman close behind him.

"Mr Tracy! Wait! What's going on?"

"My son..." was all Jeff could manage as he ran through the wide-open door and charged up the stairs to his secretary's office, the place where he'd left Virgil hours before. He knew he wasn't going to find him there now, he just knew it, but it still came as a horrible shock to find the room empty, his jacket lying in a heap on the floor beside the couch.

"They've got Virgil!"

"Mr Tracy, calm down a minute. What can you tell me about what happened tonight?"

Jeff collapsed onto the couch and took a deep breath. "Trask. Harvey Trask. He's the one. He's got my son. He broke in and-"

"Okay, stop." Shawcross took hold of Jeff's shoulder and gave it a good shake. "I know the guy. He didn't do this."

"Yes he did." Jeff tried to get up but the officer forced him back down. "I know the sound of his voice. He shut me in that storeroom and now he's got Virgil. You need to find him."

"Mr Tracy." Shawcross knelt down so the distraught man could see him. "We'll do our best to find your son, but I promise you, Harvey Trask isn't the man we're looking for." Ignoring Jeff's protest, he carried on. "Trask's in jail right now. Has been since lunchtime. He got into a brawl in some bar. A couple of cops went to break it up and Trask took them both on. One's in hospital with a broken jaw. There's no way the guy did this."

Jeff looked at him long and hard, trying to take in what the man was saying. He was sure he'd recognised Trask's voice. Then again, he'd been shaken by the sudden attack and he'd had a bag over his head at the time. Maybe he was just paranoid when it came to his former employee. But he'd been so sure...

Finally he managed to whisper, "If he hasn't got Virgil, then who has?"

"That's what we need to find out." Shawcross got up and looked around. "He was in here?"

"Yes. I only left him for a moment. He was asleep on the couch."

"Any chance he might have woken up and gone looking for you? You were gone a good few hours."

"It's possible." Jeff felt a spark of hope, though it only lasted a moment as his eyes came to rest on his jacket. "No. They came up here. They must have, to get my car keys. They were in my jacket - I put it over him..."

"Okay. Come on, let's get some details."

Jeff got shakily to his feet. "Lucy... I have to call her." He stumbled into his office then stopped, Shawcross bumping into him, so sudden was his halt.

_"Virgil..."_

Then he was running across to his desk and swinging the large leather chair around, allowing Shawcross to see what had got the man's attention. Virgil was curled up on the chair, fast asleep, though the tracks of tears were still visible on the boy's cheeks. Jeff reached out to snatch him up, thankfully registering the lack of blood or bruises as he clutched his son to him.

"Daddy?"

Suddenly Virgil was clutching him back and Jeff held his son even more tightly, sinking down into his chair in relief. Only the boy's squirming and gasp of discomfort made him realise how firmly he was holding him and he relaxed his grip just the tiniest bit.

"Are you alright?" he whispered. "I was so worried about you."

"Daddy gone."

"I know." Jeff hugged Virgil once again. "I'm sorry. I couldn't get back to you. I wanted to, but..." He gave up and just held him, closing his eyes for a moment. The night's events had almost been too much for him and he was desperate to get to Lucy, but first he needed a moment with his son. "I'm so sorry."

"Can he tell us anything?" Shawcross asked softly. Jeff frowned, then shifted Virgil on his lap so he could look at him properly, carefully coaxing an account of the night's events from him.

Virgil told him how something had woken him up and he'd found himself all alone. Hearing voices outside he'd climbed up onto the back of the couch to look out of the window and seen some men laughing as his father's car drove off.

"Scared, Daddy."

"You've been a brave boy," Jeff told him, debating whether or not to explain that he hadn't been the one to drive the car away, then deciding that the truth would traumatise his son even more. Fathers were supposed to protect their children, not let themselves get locked in storerooms leaving their offspring alone and vulnerable. He still couldn't believe the men, whoever they were, hadn't harmed his son.

"Can he tell us anything about these men?" Shawcross asked softly, though he didn't sound particularly hopeful.

Jeff, however, thought it was worth a try. Virgil was observant for a three-year-old and, if nothing else, he might give them a few clues as to age and clothing.

"What did they look like, Virgil?" he asked. "What colour was their hair?"

Virgil didn't answer, just pointed towards the desk.

"I drawed them, Daddy."

"Drew."

Jeff snapped his head around to Shawcross, who reddened.

"Sorry, my little girl is always saying that. Drives me insane."

Jeff managed a half-smile before turning back to Virgil, who looked at the men in confusion.

"Drew-ded..."

Jeff had to smile properly this time, even as he registered the scrawls Virgil had made over the documents he'd spent so long annotating. He didn't even care - the fact that his son was safe more than made up for the hours of wasted work. He turned to Shawcross and shrugged, guessing that none of the figures his son had drawn would be of any use.

But Shawcross was staring at one of the pictures intently.

"Mr Tracy, I think we could be on to something."

Jeff looked more closely. The figure had a round circle for a body instead of the sticks the others had been given. Whilst the others had hair, this one was apparently bald.

"You recognise a guy from _that_?" he asked.

"Well, if you hadn't mentioned Harvey Trask I might not have picked up on it, but have you ever met his brother?"

"No..."

"Alan Trask. Big, bald and, would you believe it, speaks with the same accent as his brother. Got quite a record, too. Theft, assault... He could well be our guy."

"Alan Trask." Jeff considered this as Shawcross radioed in to his base. "Alan... _Alan!_"

Suddenly he leapt to his feet, nearly tipping Virgil onto the floor before he caught hold of him again. Catching sight of Shawcross's startled expression, he reached out to drag him towards the door.

"Mr Tracy?"

"Come on. I need a ride."

"You're not going near the Trask house."

"I don't want to go to the Trask house. I need you to take me to the hospital. My wife's having a baby!"


	6. Chapter 6

_Last chapter! Hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you to everyone who followed, reviewed, favourited and read - it means a lot. Whirlgirl, as always, a big, big thank you for all your comments. Bee_

Chapter Six

Jeff had hoped he'd be able to head off to the hospital right away. Lucy's previous labours had lasted several hours, but none of the other boys had been early and he wouldn't have put money on this one holding on until his arrival, not when he was apparently so keen to make his entrance in the world. But then nothing had gone according to plan since he'd arrived back from his shopping trip, and things didn't seem to be going his way even now.

He'd settled himself and Virgil into the back of the police car, only to be forced to wait whilst Shawcross shared the information about Alan Trask first with his partner, then with headquarters. Whilst it felt good to know that the entire police force would now be looking for the man, it didn't take away his frustration about still being stuck at the factory. When Shawcross replaced the handset of his radio, Jeff had finally thought they'd be on their way, but then the officer had glanced across to where his partner was talking to Doug Barrett and, with a muttered apology for yet another delay, headed off to join them.

Jeff gave the man almost a minute before he'd had enough. With a promise to Virgil that he'd only be a moment, he swung the door open and began to get out, only for a wail of distress from his son to stop him.

Cursing himself for forgetting that his son was bound to be feeling more than a little anxious after being left alone all that time, he was forced to abandon his bid to hurry Shawcross along, instead doing his best to soothe his panicked son.

Virgil was still sniffling when the sound of sirens was heard and another police car drew up. Seconds later the front doors of the car he was sitting in opened and Shawcross and Doug got in.

"Sorry for the delay," Shawcross told him. "I couldn't leave my partner alone. Those guys are probably long gone, but you never know."

"I said I'd stay," Doug told him. "But they wanted me to come to the hospital to get checked out. I said there was no need. I'm used to being knocked out, honestly. That's why I had to quit boxing... I'm fine."

"Got to follow procedure," Shawcross told him, finally, to Jeff's utter relief, shifting the car into gear and setting off.

"The kid okay?" he asked.

"It's been a bit much for him," Jeff said.

"I'm not surprised. Hey, Virgil!"

Virgil looked up uncertainly, shifting a little closer to his father as he did so. He knew he should trust the policeman, but after believing his father had left him all alone with only strange men for company, he was feeling more than a little unsettled.

"Ever been in a police car before?" Shawcross continued.

Virgil shook his head, but the sniffles stopped and the tension began to leave his body as his father whispered. "A police car _and _a fire truck. Your brothers are going to be soooo jealous."

"They sure will," Shawcross told him. "Especially when you tell them I did _this..."_

The sirens started to wail, lights flashing red and blue as Shawcross put his foot down. Jeff sat back in satisfaction. Not only had Virgil started to laugh as he begged the man to go even faster, but now they'd get to the hospital within minutes.

Sure enough the journey was soon over, much to Virgil's disappointment. He was bouncing up and down and squealing with delight by the time Shawcross was forced to slow down as he turned into the hospital complex.

"I'll drop you off first," he told Jeff. "Good luck. Do you know what you're having?"

"Another boy," Jeff told him.

"Got a name?" Doug asked.

Jeff drew in a breath and let it out with a whistle. "I'll let you know..."

He had the door open even before Shawcross had pulled up, grabbing Virgil and manoeuvring the pair of them out of the car as quickly as he could. He rushed inside to the reception desk, clinging to the hope that he'd be in time to see his son arrive, but apparently he wasn't the only frantic father there that night. There was quite a queue and so, after a moment of shuffling his feet impatiently and making ineffective attempts to pacify Virgil, who had been none too impressed when his ride in Shawcross's patrol car had come to an end, he gave up and made his way towards the delivery rooms.

Approaching a corner he heard a familiar voice and he picked up his already swift pace, nearly knocking over a startled nurse as he took the turning.

"Mom!"

Ruth Tracy was deep in discussion with a woman in a white coat, but she broke off in mid sentence and flung her arms around her son as he drew level with her.

"Jeff! The police called to let us know you were okay, but we were so worried. About Virgil too." She turned her attention to the boy. "Are you okay, baby?"

"He's alright," Jeff told her, passing the boy over to her. "A bit shaken, but he'll be okay. What about Lucy? And the baby?"

"They're both fine."

"Both? He's here?" Jeff couldn't hide his disappointment.

Ruth smiled. "He arrived just before midnight. He's beautiful, Jeff. Red hair, just like your grandmother."

Jeff just stared at her. His mother shook her head at him. "What are you waiting for, Jeff? Go and see them. Room eight."

Jeff finally got himself moving, once again picking up the pace as he tracked the room numbers until he reached the right one. He hesitated a moment, catching his breath before pushing the door open and taking in the sight of his wife propped up by pillows, a tiny blue bundle in her arms. Lucy looked exhausted - and more beautiful than he'd ever believed possible.

She hadn't noticed the door open, totally enthralled by the baby. Jeff watched her silently for a moment, then tapped at the door.

"Hey..." he said.

She looked up, her relief at seeing him safe and well obvious, although she quickly did her best to hide the fact, forcing her features into a stern glare.

"Nice of you to join us."

Jeff smiled nervously. "Sorry. You know, if I remember rightly, you promised he wouldn't arrive on Valentine's Day."

Lucy stared back at him. "_You_ promised you'd be back in time for dinner. Anyway, it's not like I had much choice in the matter." She looked like she was gearing up to say a lot more and Jeff braced himself for a lecture, but instead, his wife sank back against the pillows, exhaustion clearly catching up with her. There _would_ be a lecture, he knew - and a big one at that - but he was more than happy to put it off for as long as he could. Anyway, it wasn't really his fault - he couldn't have predicted the raid on the factory. Not that Lucy would be impressed by the fact that he shouldn't have been anywhere near the place at that time of night. Maybe he'd play the sympathy card, he thought. He was sure he had more than a few bruises where he'd been hit. Though he had a feeling he wouldn't be working late at the office again for quite some time...

He crossed over to the bed and kissed her before his gaze shifted to the baby. "He's okay?"

"He's perfect." She looked up at him, taking in his dusty clothes and mussed-up hair. "Are you okay, Jeff? I thought something terrible had happened to you. I called and called, then the baby started to come and there was still no sign of you. The police couldn't find you and I didn't know what to think. I was so scared. All the time I was in labour, all I could think about was that Alan was going to grow up not knowing his father. Or his brother. Is Virg alright?"

"He's fine; Mom's got him. I'll bring him in soon. I just want a bit of time with the two of you first."

"Here." Lucy shifted the baby so that Jeff could take him, smiling at the expression on his face as he took in every feature of the baby's face.

"Jeff?"

"Mm?"

"Don't ever do that again."

Jeff looked over and smiled. "You mean you want me here for the next one?"

Lucy smacked his arm. "Next one? After this? You're kidding, aren't you? Alan's the last. Four boys is plenty."

"Luce, about the name..."

"What about it?" Lucy sat up straighter and glared at him. "My choice this time, remember? You got to name Virgil. I thought you liked 'Alan'."

"I do, but-"

"No buts, Jeff! I've been through enough today as it is without arguing over names. He's Alan!"

"The guy who attacked me was called Alan."

There was silence for a moment. "Oh..."

Some fifteen minutes later, Jeff reluctantly handed his son back to Lucy and went in search of his now second-youngest. He heard Virgil before he saw him, the boy excitedly telling his grandmother about his ride in the police car.

"Come on kid," he said, taking Virgil's hand. "Let's go and see your mother. And your brother."

He smiled across at his mother. "Thanks for being here, Mom. Can you take Virgil home once he's seen them?"

Grandma yawned and nodded. "It's been a long night. I'm surprised he's still awake. Though the way he's been going on... Honestly, Jeff, it's a good thing he's more concerned with the car and the truck than being left alone."

"I know." Jeff's smile dropped for a moment. "Keep an eye on him."

"Don't I always?" She bent down to Virgil. "Now then, sweetie, let's go and see Alan."

Virgil's face settled into a scowl. "Don't like Alan."

Jeff could see his mother about to launch into the same speech she'd given the boy several times now. Virgil had been decidedly vocal about not wanting a brother and every attempt to get him excited about the baby's arrival had met with failure. Before his mother could say anything, he spoke.

"Actually, son, we didn't like Alan either, so we're getting a Gordon instead."

"Gordon?" Ruth Tracy couldn't hide her surprise.

"Long story," Jeff whispered, watching as Virgil considered this sudden change of plan. "What do you say, Virgil? Gordon's much better than Alan. You'll like him."

Virgil still said nothing, but allowed his father to lead him towards the room.

_"Mommy!"_

It was clear who Virgil wanted to see. Jeff lifted him up onto the bed, smiling as he immediately launched into an account of his ride in the police car.

"That's lovely, darling," Lucy said. "But you've got a brother to meet. That's even more special. Scott and John haven't seen him yet, you know. You're the first."

She moved Gordon so that Virgil could get a better look, catching Jeff's eye as she did so. Both of them held their breath, waiting to see what Virgil's reaction would be. Jeff readied himself to snatch the boy away if he decided to throw a tantrum, scared that a flailing arm or leg might hurt Lucy or the baby, but Virgil stayed absolutely still, just looking at Gordon for a long, long moment.

Then all of a sudden he turned back to Lucy. "I went in a fire truck, Mommy..."

His parents couldn't help laughing. Jeff let him talk for a few minutes, then decided his wife had suffered enough.

"Come on, time to go home. You've had a busy day, young man."

"He certainly has," Grandma smiled, taking the boy's hand and leading him to the door, promising to be back in the morning with the others.

Lucy yawned and settled back against the pillows.

"Maybe I should go with Mom," Jeff said, making to get off the bed. "You need to sleep."

Lucy reached out and took a tight hold of his hand. "Not yet, you don't. I don't want you going anywhere. Not when I've just got you back."

Jeff smiled and settled himself down beside her, reaching out to run his hand gently over Gordon's head as the baby opened his eyes. He was more than happy to stay here. In fact he didn't want to move ever again.

Of course, he had to. Eventually a nurse came in and ordered him out, overriding Lucy's objections. After a final goodbye he left the room and made his way out of the hospital in search of a cab. He'd need a new car, he thought. Plus, there was the damage to the factory to think about, not to mention deciding what to do with the boy who'd started the fire. There was his security guard to consider, too...

He stopped for a moment and looked up at the night sky. The moon was shining brightly and he couldn't help remembering the moment he'd set foot on its surface. As incredible as the experience had been it didn't come close to holding a new-born son in his arms. In a sudden fit of joy and magnanimity he decided that his errant employees could keep their jobs. After all, it wasn't as if he could criticise - he'd almost set fire to his father's barn at fifteen when he'd sneaked a packet of cigarettes in there then dropped the match. Doug had been ambushed just as he had. He'd like to know how the men had got in, though...

"Mr Tracy!"

It was Shawcross. "I wondered if you'd still be here. I guess the baby's arrived?"

Jeff's broad smile was answer enough.

"That's good news. I've got some more for you, too."

"Trask?" Jeff asked.

"Yep. One of our patrol cars picked him up a few miles out of town. His van was full of stuff from your factory. He didn't put up much of a fight when we questioned him - we got the whole story. He hates you, you know."

"He does?" Jeff was surprised. "Why? I've never met the guy."

"Turns out he'd been living with his brother and his wife for the past few months. He couldn't get a job so he was pretty much dependant on them. When you fired Harvey he could see he wasn't going to get a free ride for much longer. Then apparently you gave the wife money to leave town?" Shawcross looked at Jeff for confirmation. Jeff nodded.

"Well, it seems Alan Trask had got rather close to his brother's wife. He decided to follow her back to Topeka. You were going to provide him with the means to do that - or at least, the proceeds of the break-in were."

Jeff shook his head. "But how did he get in? Doug said no alarms went off. That's what doesn't make sense."

"He had a security pass for the side gate."

Jeff exploded. "Harvey Trask! I knew he had to be involved. He handed his passkeys in, but he must have made a copy."

Shawcross shrugged. "Alan Trask swears he's innocent. Says he was biding his time for the right opportunity so his brother didn't get blamed. When Harvey got arrested he took his chance."

"But the pass..."

"Turns out your old security guard was hosting all-night poker games for his friends every Thursday," Shawcross said. "The same guys who helped out tonight, in fact. There's no honour amongst thieves where Alan Trask's concerned - he gave them up right away. Harvey gave his brother a pass for the side gate so the guards in the unit across the way wouldn't see them all coming through the main entrance. Plus, that way he didn't have to trouble himself going out to let them in."

Jeff blew out a long breath. "I knew that man was trouble."

"Well, he won't be bothering you for a while," Shawcross told him. "He'll do time for assaulting a policeman. Maybe he'll get to share a cell with his brother."

Jeff smiled. "Sounds good to me." He yawned. "Thanks for all you've done, officer. Any idea where I can get a cab?"

Shawcross inclined his head towards his patrol car. "I'll give you a lift."

"Would you mind?" Jeff asked.

"It's no problem."

They walked over to the car and Jeff settled himself gratefully into the seat. Shawcross glanced across at him thoughtfully.

"Mr Tracy? I saw you gazing at the moon just now. What's it like up in space?"

"Well, I was just thinking that it doesn't compare to meeting your new baby..." Jeff smiled for a moment. "Or riding in a police car, maybe. Virgil can't stop talking about the ride you gave him. It's going to help, I think. Maybe with all the excitement he's had he won't be affected too much by everything that happened."

Shawcross smiled back. "If I'm honest, I still get a kick out of it. The sirens, the lights, ignoring the stop signs... Though I didn't go that fast, really, not on a joyride. Still, Virgil had fun."

"I might have appreciated it more if I hadn't been so worried about Lucy," Jeff admitted.

"You've been in a rocket. That has to be more exciting."

"Terrifying might be a better word," Jeff told him.

Shawcross turned out of the hospital. "Did you-"

He was interrupted as a burst of static came from his radio, followed by the curt tones of the announcer. Shawcross listened for a moment then picked up the handset and barked some code that meant nothing to Jeff.

"Robbery at the mall," he said. "I'm the closest."

"Drop me off here, then," Jeff said. "I'll get that cab."

_"_It's on the way to your house," Shawcross said. "And it'll be easier to get a cab from there. You can see how I do things for real." He reached over to flick the switch for the sirens, only for Jeff to put out his hand.

"No, really. As much as I'd like the experience, I'm going to bail. With the luck I've had lately I'll end up being caught up in the robbery. Or we'll crash. I think I'm going to quit whilst I'm ahead."

Shawcross looked disappointed. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure. Thank you for all you did tonight." He got out of the car and stood back as Shawcross sped off into the distance.

Then he was all alone. He took a deep breath of the cold night air, appreciating the sudden peace and quiet. It would be the last he'd get for quite some time, he thought. Tomorrow he'd bring Lucy and Gordon home and from then on it would be chaos in the Tracy home. Four boys, sleepless nights with a crying baby...

To his surprise a cab appeared in the distance and he flagged it down, jumping in and giving directions to his house.

_About time my luck changed_, he thought to himself, making himself comfortable. Not that he could complain really, not when he'd already had such an incredible life. There'd be plenty more to come, too. He and Lucy would raise their family, the boys would grow up and start lives of their own. There would be grandchildren and he and Lucy would grow old together. He couldn't complain about one night of madness.

And maybe one day - if he could persuade Lucy - there would be an Alan after all...


End file.
